subject line: i dreamt we were beautiful and strong. February 28, 2018 by Hannah Brencher Charlottesville, Virginia The sun is just setting, half of the road is dark, the other half still glowing from the sinking rays, and I am remembering you. Remembering the way I cried when the dance was over, and how you wrapped me in your arms, buried my face in your shoulder, so close I could have kissed you on the cheek, so close I should have kissed you on the cheek, and how you squeezed me tight. Remembering the afternoon we spent sitting on the porch after a long conversation, not really talking anymore, but comfortably in silence together, when all of a sudden the skies opened and the rain came down. You got off the steps and pulled me up with you, and walked right into the storm— arms out, eyes wide, full of glee at God’s grace and the beauty of nature. And as I spun around in laughter— raindrops bigger than seemed possible pelting down on me, sweet, summer, mountain rain, the kind that comes and goes in but an instant— in that moment I knew: I want a man who walks into the storm with delight in his eyes. I want more than anything for that man to be you.